


young and beautiful

by missdulcerosea



Series: wonderful wednesdays, fluffy fridays [5]
Category: Arthurian Mythology & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:06:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24289387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missdulcerosea/pseuds/missdulcerosea
Summary: A moment shared between Arthur and his dearest knight when they were very young.
Relationships: Lancelot du Lac/Arthur Pendragon
Series: wonderful wednesdays, fluffy fridays [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1731229
Kudos: 8





	young and beautiful

Though the curtains reveal something else when they are lifted, they both have the kiss to remember. Arthur relives it in his head. They had something between them long before Guinevere, an enigma that they alone could unravel. There was never anything beyond that, but Arthur still clutches hold of it and inhales its fragrance: The petals are soft on his skin, the memory still blooming fresh in his heart.

They are out in the woods that night. Rain snuffs out the flames on their wet torches, the both of them shivering beneath their soaked cloaks and making their way through the forest. Lancelot clutches onto Arthur and there is something that plants a seed in him. He has this desire to be held once he gets to feel it. They are cold comfort, rain strengthening the rich fragrance of the earth beneath their feet, trees a thin canopy over their heads.

Lancelot looks up at him with zircon blue eyes. Though the woods means something different to the knights and kings who made their way before them, they are both young with eyes bright and drunk on tales of old and starry nights.

“It’s cold.”

“Then I can warm you up.” Arthur takes Lancelot into his arms, cradling him close and reaching up a hand to pet at his wet hair. Blonde, like his. But even though his face is drenched with rainwater and his flaxen hair plastered to his face, something grows in Arthur’s chest. _He’s beautiful. And I love him. Or at least I think I do._

He pulls Lancelot away so they can press their foreheads together, blue eyes on brown. Arthur sucks in a deep shuddering breath when he feels Lancelot’s hands reach up to his cheeks. They are still budding together, petals and leaves unfurling. There will be storms and winds to withstand, but they are new and the world of Camelot and beyond still feels new to them.

“Lancelot…”

The gap is closed. The flowers continue to bloom. The kiss in the pouring rain tastes sweet, of nectar and honeyed wine. And in spite of the pouring rain and the unsteady forest ground beneath their ground, they are warm.

They don’t talk about the kiss when they go back. Arthur never brings it up, even though they grow older and the world loses its vibrancy. And though he does not dwell on it, there are times when the world seems gray that he takes out the memory and overturns it in his hands. Because they had something bright once. It was brief, but it was there.

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't written for arthurian mythos in a while... maybe i should return to it. this is actually an old little thing i wrote but i liked it enough to put it here.
> 
> thanks for reading this! please take care <3


End file.
